


Je T'aimerai Encore

by Writers_Muse



Series: One-Shots (And Two-Shots) ^_^ [25]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, AU - post-canon, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breakups, Co-Parenting, F/M, Hot Mess Adrien Agreste, Hurt Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Post-Canon, Relationship(s), more or less
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23308006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writers_Muse/pseuds/Writers_Muse
Summary: Marinette and Adrien's relationship hasn't been easy since they gave up their miraculouses, but they made it work.  Until Adrien decides he needs something else to make him feel alive again.  When he regrets his decision, he finds out there's another reason to return to the only woman he's ever really loved, but is she willing to take him back?
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: One-Shots (And Two-Shots) ^_^ [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1294469
Comments: 42
Kudos: 123





	Je T'aimerai Encore

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been sitting in my docs for like more than half a year. It never quite made it to where I wanted it to. There were other scenes I planned to include, a potentially different ending I was going to write, but this is what came out instead lol.  
> Hopefully, if you like angst, you'll enjoy this?  
> <3 Muse

It started with a comment.

“Did you know Ladybugs and Chat Noirs don’t always end up together?”

Marinette looked up from her sewing. A clock on the wall ticked loudly.

“Um, no?”

Adrien swiveled restlessly in his chair and wouldn’t meet her eyes.

The chair squeaked rhythmically. It must have needed an oiling.

“It’s just something Plagg told me once. You know, before…”

She knew what he meant. She knew exactly what he meant.

Once all the chaos had died down, Hawkmoth went to prison, and the masks came off, both of them realized they needed to focus on putting their lives back together. So they took off their miraculouses for good and started the process of helping each other heal.

It was a blow to them both.

“Oh. Well that’s… something.”

Silences became more numerous than words after that. The odd distance that had been growing between them suddenly exploded into a canyon that neither of them knew how to cross.

And with no more Tikki or Plagg for support, the absence of their kwamis made the already deafening quiet a crushing force.

One night, Adrien came home, but instead of setting down his keys and taking off his coat, he stood just inside the door and didn’t move.

Marinette looked at him from her place on the couch, TV remote in hand.

“How was your day?”

It didn’t matter that she genuinely wanted to know- the words came out empty and lifeless anyway. His whole aura screamed at her with its indifference.

“I love Ladybug,” he said after a few awkward moments.

Marinette frowned.

“What?”

Her brain was calculating at a thousand miles a minute, but she was trying to solve a math equation when someone had given her a manual for translating Greek.

“I told myself once that I would always love the girl under the mask, whoever she was. I guess that's truer than I thought. The thing is, I still love the girl under the mask, it’s just someone else wearing it now.”

All the blood in her body turned cold.

“Wait, you’re… what?”

Adrien sighed, but it was more sorry than anything.

“We’re not what we used to be anymore, Marinette. I think you know that. I just… need to be with Ladybug. She makes me feel… alive. Like I’m… me again.”

_ Me… as in Chat Noir _ .

The words went unspoken but understood.

It might have been shock or numbness, but Marinette could only sit there for long minutes, mute.

She knew he missed Plagg. She knew he regretted not being able to get him back, to get his old freedom back. Without a miraculous, life had steadily become dull and empty for him.

She missed Tikki, too, but she tried to look at the positives in everything. She loved Adrien, loved loving Adrien, and was relieved they had each other to lean on through the difficult times of the past.

She never imagined it wasn’t enough for him.

He didn’t say anything more, just headed into their room and came back out a few minutes later with a small bag in hand. 

“I have to go,” he said, then walked toward the door again.

By then, Marinette had roused out of her stupor. She cried, she shouted, and (she would always be embarrassed to admit) she begged him not to leave. They could figure things out, like they always had.

It was with a weary sigh that Adrien set his apartment key down on the console table, carefully peeled Marinette’s hand off of his sleeve, and reached for the door handle.

“I’m sorry, Marinette. I have to do this.”

When the door closed behind him, she collapsed onto the floor and wept.

It was two months later, long past the time Adrien had come to collect all the things he wanted and moved out, when Marinette couldn’t stop feeling sick. She considered for a time that it was a stomach virus, but the nausea was irregular, triggered sometimes by the oddest things, like smells she usually loved.

One morning, dread settling deep in her heart, she took a pregnancy test. When two lines appeared in the results window, she thought she might faint.

Even after those two months that had passed, she wasn’t anywhere near being “ok” again, but she had accepted the situation and was doing her best to move on.

As it turned out, life was playing a long game of poker and decided it was time to see her small steps forward and raise her several giant steps back.

She sat on the information for a few weeks, unsure whether or not she even wanted to tell Adrien, much less how. It was as she sat at the dinner table one Saturday that she decided he had the right to know, but before she had the chance to think about calling him, a knock sounded at her door.

When she pulled it open, she wasn’t expecting to see on the other side of it the same blond, green-eyed man who had been haunting all her sleeping and waking dreams.

He stood there, fingers fidgeting anxiously. She gaped in shock.

“Adrien?”

“Can… I come in?”

His whole being radiated with nervous energy. Marinette stood back and opened the door wider, but didn’t say a word.

He crossed the threshold, but didn’t seem to know what to do with himself after that. His eyes darted about the room, finally settling on the dishes still sitting on the table.

“Sorry. Did I interrupt your dinner?”

Marinette looked at the cold, lonely, uneaten chicken fried rice. She didn’t have much of an appetite before, but suddenly it looked even more unappetizing.

“It’s fine,” she said, then crossed over to the table and lifted the plate in her hand. After emptying the unwanted food into the trash bin, she set the dishes in the sink and rested her hands on the edges of the counter, her back to her former partner. She needed a minute to collect herself. “Would you like to have a seat?”

Despite her best efforts, there was a tremor in her voice. Thankfully, Adrien appeared to be too nervous to notice.

“Uh, yes, thank you.”

The sound of scraping legs reached her ears as, presumably, he took a chair. Marinette breathed deep, gathered up some courage, and faced him.

“Is there something I can help you with?” she asked. Her arms crossed defensively.

Adrien looked slightly pitiful, now that she had a chance to look at him. His hair was more unkempt than usual, and there were bags under his eyes. Not to mention, his usually bright complexion looked rather dull and pale. She was pretty sure Gabriel was rolling over in his prison cot right then.

“I think… I made a mistake.”

Heavy, suffocating silence descended. Marinette knew intuitively exactly what he must have meant, yet her brain refused to accept the implication.

“I don’t understand. Are you supposed to be somewhere else right now?”

Those large, emerald eyes she used to love so much burned her to the core.

“No, no.” He paused, a bit breathless. “The truth is… I never should have left in the first place. I was wrong- I don’t know what I was thinking. Marinette… I want to come back.”

She stared, not speaking.

“Marinette?”

Finally, her gaze shifted, her eyes falling down to her abdomen. Subconsciously, she placed one hand on her stomach.

“I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you,” she uttered quietly. “Adrien, I’m pregnant.”

The air was taut with some unnameable thing. Neither of them said a word for a good minute. Then Adrien stood up and slowly walked over. Marinette’s gaze remained directed downward, but she heard and then saw his feet enter her field of vision. Two tentative hands reached toward her belly, then stopped and hovered in the air.

“...My baby?” he whispered reverently. “You’re going to have my baby?”

Marinette sniffed, not even realizing that she was on the verge of crying. In response, she simply nodded.

Adrien exhaled, awed. His hands softly landed on her body. She didn’t object but finally looked up.

Right then he was staring at her stomach, the expression on his face a cross between joy, fear, and disbelief.

Slowly, he dropped to his knees and leaned in closer.

“Hey, little one. It’s your daddy,” he gushed. “I can’t wait to meet you. We’re going to be so happy together.”

The smile on his face was too much. Marinette felt something rising up in her chest, so she stepped to the side and cleared her throat.

“Adrien.” She couldn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t… think it’s a good idea.”

“ _ What? _ ”

His voice sounded thick, confused. There was shuffling and rustling as he rose clumsily to his feet. A cold, clammy hand wrapped around her wrist, and she looked up.

“What do you mean?”

Brows sat low over worried eyes. Something inside her clenched tightly.

“I don’t think… I don’t think we can go back to the way things were. I don’t think I want to.”

Adrien’s frown deepened, his grip on her wrist tighter.

Marinette took a shuddering breath.

“We can raise our child together, but not as anything more than co-parents.”

Tense seconds passed by.

“But… I love you. Please, don’t turn me away. Marinette, I don’t want to live without you!”

His fingers squeezed harder, and she flinched. Adrien pulled away immediately, releasing her with a look of mild horror.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She rubbed her sore wrist with the opposite hand.

“It’s ok.”

Adrien looked about the space as though lost.

“Can I… can I stay here tonight?” he eventually asked. “Can we talk about this more tomorrow?”

She sighed and looked off to the side. The way his eyes pierced into her, begging, made her feel weak and dizzy.

“I’m tired,” she said. “I’m going to bed now. You can sleep on the couch, if you want to stay. We can talk more in the morning, but my answer will not change.”

Marinette walked down the hallway to the restroom. Once the door was safely shut behind her, she turned on the faucet and let it run for a few seconds before splashing her face. The sound of clinking dishes carried over the running water.  _ Adrien must be washing the dishes. _

It helped, the cold water, to ease the nausea that had been steadily building since he arrived, not that it was entirely his fault. She was already exhausted, which tended to make her feel sick, pregnant or not. The stressful situation just tipped the iceberg.

After toweling off her face, she opened the door, turned off the light, and went to her room. The noises from the outer rooms of the apartment had quieted down. Under her door, she could see the light from the living room blink off. Changing her clothes into a comfortable set of pajamas, Marinette climbed into her bed and fell asleep.

Morning came, and with it sunlight and an empty, slightly sick stomach. She rose up out of bed with a groan, momentarily forgetting who else was there after months of being alone.

When she emerged from her bedroom, though, the familiar sight of a blond man standing at the stove met her eyes. He turned around to face her, smiling softly.

“Morning, princess.”

The nickname suddenly felt wrong, tainted, forbidden. Marinette frowned but made her way to the table anyway.

Within a few minutes, a plate of eggs and toast, and a cup of green tea were sitting in front of her.

It was something she, under regular circumstances, would often eat for breakfast.

But since she became pregnant, the strong smell of eggs had been making her sick.

Marinette rose up quickly from her chair and ran to the restroom, slamming the door shut behind her and hunching over the toilet just in time to spew bile and water into the bowl.

Since there wasn’t much in her stomach, she gagged a little after the initial vomit, but nothing came out.

The door opened carefully. Adrien’s quiet footsteps couldn’t be heard (probably due to his years as a feline superhero), but she felt the vibration of them on the floor.

A hand rested hesitantly on her back, then rubbed soothing circles. Marinette wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stood. Walking over to the sink, she washed out her mouth and turned to look at the man behind her.

“Let’s talk.”

The two of them moved to the living room and sat on the couch side by side, Marinette still in her pajamas, and Adrien still in his clothes from the day before. Uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Then:

“Adrien, I don’t think-”

“Can I just.. say something first?”

Marinette stopped. She  _ did _ promise they would talk. It wouldn’t be much of a conversation if she did all the talking.

When she realized he was waiting for her response, she nodded.

He took a breath.

“There’s… no excuse for the way I abandoned you. After all our years and everything we’ve been through together, I just walked out and never gave us the opportunity to try to work things out. I was unfair to you. I blamed you for things I was feeling- stuff I had bottled up ever since the day we took down my father. I resented the fact that I couldn’t be the best part of me anymore, even though I knew I was no longer capable of the responsibility that came with it. And worst of all, I separated you in my mind from the person I thought I wanted because I was too caught up in feeling like Chat Noir was this whole other identity I could never get back. Ladybug is you, and you are Ladybug, earrings or not. I can’t believe it took this kind of failure for me to realize that everything the hero I loved was, all came from you. No one else compares.”

Marinette listened, but didn’t say a word.

“ _ Please _ , Marinette. I know I don’t deserve to be forgiven, but I’m begging you for the chance to show you that I’ll never hurt you like that again. I love you more than I ever have. I want to be with you, and have.. a  _ family _ with you.” His hands reached out to cup her still flat stomach. “Spend every day for the rest of my life crawling on my knees to get back to you.”

The wheels in her mind were turning, turning, turning.

“There are some things I need to know,” she said calmly. 

Adrien startled a little, surprised. His hands returned to his lap as he returned her gaze.

“Yea- yes- ok. Yes. Just ask.”

Marinette was quiet for a beat.

“You said you were in love with Ladybug. I assume you mean the current Ladybug?”

Adrien swallowed.

“Y- yes.”

She nodded, expression thoughtful but unreadable.

“And all this time… you’ve been seeing her?”

His face betrayed his discomfort, but he nodded.

“Do you know who she is?”

He looked off to the side, no longer able to meet her eyes, and bit his lip, but shook his head.

“She… wore a mask when she wasn’t transformed. I didn’t know her real name.”

Marinette thought for a moment.

“Does she know you used to be Chat Noir?”

Adrien’s eyes slammed shut tightly. The lip under his teeth turned white from the pressure. He shook his head again.

“I would never.”

She wanted to scoff at the sentence, but resisted.

“And you left her because?”

He opened his eyes again and looked at her, but looked away immediately after.

“It wasn’t what I thought it would be. She wasn’t you. I thought having Ladybug again would somehow bring back the way it felt to be Chat Noir. I couldn’t have been more wrong. In the end, I just felt empty. I missed you every day.”

His head hung shamefully. From her spot next to him, she could see a few tears slide down his cheeks before falling over the edge. She didn’t say anything for long moments.

Adrien finally ventured to ask, “Marinette? Can I please… come home?”

For a few minutes, she remained mute, just staring into space. Adrien sat quietly, afraid to shatter the fragile air around them by speaking again.

“Adrien…” she finally began. He shifted nervously to attention. “I can’t be with you like that. Not anymore.”

“But… can you tell me why?”

Marinette gave into the temptation and turned to see his face. Quiet tears were running now, a small sniff the only audible sign he was crying. She turned away again and stared at the wall.

“Because… I hate you.”

A choking noise sounded beside her, and Adrien coughed.

“You... hate me?”

His voice was fearful and thick. She nodded.

“I was so broken when you left, that I made myself hate you just so I could get through every day. Hating you instead of loving you was the only thing that kept me going sometimes.”

The man beside her exhaled a shuddering breath and broke down into sobs.

Marinette turned to look at him, unable to access all the emotions that were broiling under the surface. It was like looking at them through a glass, just underneath her fingertips, but irrevocably sealed away by something invisible.

“I’m sorry.”

* * *

“Come on, Marinette, you can do this!”

She was tired, physically and mentally exhausted. Her body was stretched to the point that it felt like it was going to break, like it was splitting in two. Just drawing breath was a labor in and of itself. And they wanted her to keep pushing?

“I can see a head!”

The doctor’s voice carried over the chaos of people walking in and out of the room, the beeps of the machines that were connected to her body, Adrien’s words of encouragement as he held onto her hand. He didn’t even complain as she cut off the circulation to his fingers with her vice-like grip.

It was enough. The urge to push rose up like a tidal wave within her, so much so that it would have hurt more to suppress it than to give in. She inhaled deep and gritted her teeth, bearing down with the last bit of strength she had left.

A cry broke the air.

“She’s here!”

Adrien’s voice was filled with wonder. He remained locked to Marinette’s hand and began to wipe sweat from her brow. His eyes flicked back and forth between her face and a point on the other side of the room.

There was rustling and little cries, and Marinette could feel the adrenaline and drugs filtering out of her system. She just needed to rest…

“And here’s mama,” said a voice. A figure appeared by her bed with a bundle in its arms. Almost too tired to open her eyes, Marinette automatically accepted the tiny body swathed in blankets as it was passed to her.

“Hey,” Adrien seemed to breathe. “It’s our Emma.”

Marinette just stared at the tiny being in her arms, the vibrant green of her large eyes staring back at her. A dusting of black hair covered the top of her little head.

Adrien reached over, gingerly running a finger along a cherubic cheek.

“She has your hair,” he said, and it sounded like a laugh. Marinette smiled.

“She has your eyes.”

* * *

“Adrien.”

Marinette stood in the mouth of the hallway, her hands on her hips. A blond head startled upward, the rest of his body still stretched out down the length of the couch. Too tall to fit even with his knees bent, his feet dangled off the side.

“M- Marinette,” he responded sleepily. “Morning.”

She sighed.

“I told you to stop staying over like this. You don’t fit on the couch. I don’t know how you manage to get any sleep at all on that thing.”

Adrien shrugged and lowered his legs while straightening the upper half of his body until he was sitting properly.

“Once upon a time, we used to find ways to  _ both _ fit on this couch.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at his smirk.

“Of course, we were a little more creative in our bodily positions-”

“All right, Adrien, that’s enough,” she cut him off. He smirked wider, triumphant. “What are you doing here, anyway? You’re going to be late to work. Your apartment is almost on the other side of the city.”

“I know,” he grumbled, beginning to stand and stretch his sore muscles. “That’s because  _ somebody _ wouldn’t listen to me and let me pay for a bigger apartment when she decided to move. So, really, this is all  _ your _ fault.”

Marinette rolled her eyes.

“This was the best deal I could find in my budget. And not that it ever was, but it’s not your responsibility to pay for my place anymore, you know-”

“I _know_.” There was a bit of a bite to his voice. He tempered it. “So you keep telling me.” They both fell silent. Then Adrien sighed and headed toward the kitchen. “Today’s Emma’s first day at _l’école_ _maternelle_. You didn’t think I was going to miss that, did you?”

Marinette knew he was used to getting up early and commuting to work. She knew he could easily have made it to the school before the start of the day, but chose not to say so. Truthfully, he more often than not ended up sleeping on her couch, but she knew he did it to be close to Emma.

The clinking of dishes and the smell of coffee brewing reached her just as two little feet padded down the hall in quick succession.

“Daddy!”

A little girl with midnight hair launched herself at the blond man in the kitchen. He scooped her up in his arms, smiling widely.

“How’s daddy’s little princess?”

“I’m so excited you’re here!” she gushed gleefully. “Today’s my first day of school!”

“I know!” he exclaimed dramatically, and she giggled. Then he looked down at her clothes and gasped. “But you can’t go to school in your pajamas!”

She giggled harder, covering her mouth with a tiny, chubby hand.

“I  _ know _ , daddy. I was just going to get dressed!” She gasped as though a thought occurred to her. “Can you come with me, daddy,  _ please _ ? Can you come with maman to take me to school?”

Adrien didn’t answer but looked Marinette’s way, putting on a mock pout. Emma quickly imitated his expression.

Two pairs of emerald eyes directed at her was too much to take. Something in her heart twisted a little. She pushed it down.

“Of course!” she exclaimed enthusiastically as though it was the most obvious thing. Emma scrambled down excitedly and ran to her room to change.

When they were the only two left, Adrien and Marinette looked at each other.

She could see it again: the same sadness behind his eyes that she had been avoiding for nearly five years, but she couldn’t look away. Sounds of Emma’s over-excited movements echoed down the hall, breaking her out of her trance. She turned in the direction of the hallway to investigate what kind of mess their daughter was making.

Hardening her heart, it turned out, was getting more difficult by the day.

* * *

“Did you see this, mommy, did you?! Daddy! Look! I have my own cubby!”

Emma grabbed Adrien’s hand and tugged him along like a dog pulling at a leash, presumably in the direction of the cubbies by the far wall. He turned and shrugged in Marinette’s direction, giving her a half-smile that made her heart skip a beat. She ignored the feeling and turned to inspect the rest of the room. It was quite beautiful and looked like a child’s heaven.

There were two large rooms connected by a passageway and toilets. On one side, there was a station for building with wooden blocks of all shapes and sizes, an area with colored, transparent magnets that sat on a lighted table, and even a space with a sand table and a water play table. In one corner was a large rug and a long, low bookshelf full of children’s books. The other room had musical instruments, drawing and art supplies, and a dress up area. Outside was a large playground with a traditional jungle gym set, slides, swings, play houses, balls, and even tricycles.

Marinette wandered around for a minute fingering random objects here and there that caught her attention. She hadn’t been doing this for long, though, when a voice behind her caught her attention.

“Marinette? Is that you?”

It wasn’t Adrien’s voice, but it was one she knew well. She spun around, coming face to face with a pair of blue eyes she hadn’t seen in quite a long time.

She looked up… and up and up, and found a familiar grin aimed at her.

“It really is! M- M- Marinette, it’s been so long~”

He stooped over and wrapped two long arms around her, pulling her into a hug.

“L- Luka! What are you doing here?”

He pulled away, laughing.

“What do you think I’m doing? This is a nursery school. I have a son. He’s starting here today.”

Her eyebrows flew up in surprise.

“Oh! Wow, that’s- I had no idea,” she said awkwardly. He chuckled.

“That’s ok. It didn’t work out with the mom, and I’ve been taking care of him basically on my own for the last couple of years. I don’t really get out and talk to people much.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Are you… here with Adrien?”

“Hmm?” Marinette looked up, surprised to find that she had drifted off in thought. “Oh! Yes! I mean… sort of. We’re  _ here _ together, but we’re not  _ together _ together. Ah, I mean… I.. don’t know why I’m telling you that. Anyway, we have a daughter starting here today, too.”

She laughed self-consciously, wondering why she had even said it. He didn’t ask, and she was just making the situation awkward.

“Oh!” His face mirrored her own reaction from before. “I... never heard that.”

“Marinette?”

The two of them jumped a little at the sudden intrusion. Adrien stood to the side, his bright green eyes flicking between them.

“Adrien! Hey! Small world, huh?”

Luka reached out with one hand, offering a friendly smile. The blond man hesitantly lifted his own and accepted the greeting.

“Luka. Yea. It’s… been a few years.”

“Marinette tells me you have a daughter here?”

“Oh! Yes. Emma?”

The little girl peered out from her hiding place behind her daddy’s leg, to which she was clinging tightly.

“Come meet an old schoolmate of mommy’s.. and daddy’s.”

Her green eyes watched, curious but cautious, but she didn’t move. Luka crouched down on bent knees.

“Hey there, Emma. I’m Luka. It’s really nice to meet you.”

She stared, silent.

“I used to be a really good friend of your mom’s. She’s a really great person. I like her a lot. Do you think you could do me a favor?”

Ever so quietly, Emma whispered, “What?”

“I have a little boy, and he’s your age. Do you think you could be friends with him?”

She nodded, eyes shining excitedly, and stepped out a little from her hiding place. Luka grinned.

“That’s great. Do you see that little boy over there playing with the instruments?” He pointed off in that direction of the music station, and she followed his finger with her gaze. Emma nodded. “His name is Jaspard, and he can be really shy. Will you take care of him for me when I’m not here?”

She nodded again, smiling and biting her lip. Luka gave her an elated grin and rose to stand.

“I owe you now. It was really nice to meet you, Emma.”

Her smile widened, and she said in a voice that was still quiet but not quite a whisper, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Luka.”

He laughed joyfully.

“Just call me Luka, all right?”

Then he reached out and tousled her hair.

“All right, Emma,” Marinette interjected. “It’s time for us to get going, ok? You have fun and make sure to listen to your teacher.”

“I’m going to say goodbye to my little man,” Luka told them. “I’ll be seeing you, ok?”

Marinette turned and smiled.

“All right. I look forward to it.”

Luka beamed back at her.

“So do I.” He looked to Adrien. “See ya later, man.”

Adrien tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

“Yea. See you.”

Then Luka’s back was to them, and he was walking away.

Marinette leaned down and gave Emma a hug, after which the little girl turned to her daddy, arms spread expectantly. Adrien’s features softened, and he pulled her up to squeeze her tightly.

“Ahh, daddy’s going to miss you.”

“Ach! Daddy, too tight!” Emma squealed, but there was a giggle hiding in her breathlessness. 

He set her down, smiling, and waved fondly while she bounced away. But his smile started to fade as, off to the side, a tall man with dark hair passed once again through his field of vision.

* * *

“Emma, do you have your cookies grand-mère and grand-père made for your Christmas party?” Marinette called down the hall. In one arm she held her packed lunch, purse, and keys, and in the other she tried to wrangle into the arm of her coat.

“Yes, maman!” came a little voice down the hall, followed by an equally little girl in a bright red velvet dress, thick black wool tights, and a black pea coat. Her shoes were black boots with faux fur lining midway up her shin. In her hands she carried a box of red and green macarons.

“Good! Let’s go!”

Marinette turned the knob and pulled open the door to step through. She stopped mid-stride, though, when she saw the person on the other side of it. Adrien stood there, fist still raised to knock.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked, surprised. “Ah, I mean, we’re on our way out. We have to hurry so Emma’s not late.”

Adrien stepped back while the two of them passed through the doorway. Marinette turned with her keys to lock it behind her.

“Hello, my princess,” he greeted his daughter, the smile audible in his voice. Marinette faced the hallway, ready to go, only to find him watching her expectantly. Emma’s hand was tucked into his own. Marinette headed in the direction of the elevator as he began to speak. “I was thinking, why don’t I take Emma today? You don’t want to be late too often. I don’t mind at all.”

“Oh, yes, mommy, please!”

She pushed the elevator button with more force than necessary, counting the floors until it would arrive. Feeling impatient, she sighed.

“Adrien, this isn’t really a good time to have this conversation again. I have an arrangement with my place of work, but people rely on the schedule I’ve set up. I can’t change it whenever I feel like it.”

“I know. You don’t have to make up for it by taking her another day. I could even take her every day if you wanted. It’s no trouble.”

A ding signaled the elevator’s arrival, and after a few seconds, the doors opened with a muffled sound. The three of them stepped into the car, and Marinette pushed the button for the lobby level.

“I can’t do that,” she said, tired. They had had this conversation already many times. “It’s not good for you to be late to work every day, especially considering how far your apartment is, and it’s important to me to spend time with Emma in the morning, too.”

“Well, what if… I didn’t live that far away.”

Marinette turned her head quickly to face him, eyes wide and anxious.

“I don’t think this is really a time to have that conversation,” she tried, flicking her eyes down at the small girl in front of them. Adrien released an exasperated breath. 

“Fine. We can talk about that later. But I’d still like to take Emma today. I’m already here, after all. Can you just do this for me, please?”

Marinette paused, chewing the inside of her cheek in contemplation.

“You can come with us,” she said at last. “You don’t need my permission for that.”

“Oh, so you’re… coming too?”

The woman narrowed her eyes across the car, a silent question to what he was getting at and a warning to watch what he says with little ears listening. The elevator stopped and opened, allowing them to exit. They passed through the front doors of the building and out into the brisk winter air.

“Is that a problem?” she asked, trying to keep the testiness out of her tone.

“Well, no,” he almost stammered. “It’s just I thought maybe it would be nice if you didn’t have to always be running to the school, that’s all.”

Not that Adrien was a selfish person in any way, but usually when he popped up out of the blue with supposedly altruistic intentions, there was a little angle in it for him. Marinette continued down the street, wondering what he wasn’t saying. He seemed to glance at her from time to time, even as they walked down the steps leading to the metro.

“I’m going,” she blurted when she could take it no longer. In her peripheral, he seemed to slump a little.

She shook her head, just slightly, wondering what his problem was.

* * *

“Ok, so there’s a list of foods Emma can’t have on the fridge, and a schedule for bedtime. She can’t have anything to drink but water after 20:00, and she’s allowed only one story before it’s lights off. Her routine is very important, so don’t let her trick you into letting her stay up later. Last time she did that to a babysitter, it took a week to get her back on schedule.”

Marinette fluttered and flapped around the apartment, not really looking at the girl behind her despite speaking directly to her, gesturing to inanimate objects here and there along the way. At the end of her speech, she stopped, briskly turned, and panted a little. It could have been the rapid tour she had just given, the long-winded explanation, or her nerves. Then again, it could have been all three.

A bright-eyed teen with a small gap in her front teeth grinned widely back at Marinette.

“Yea, yea, I  _ got it _ , Madame Agreste.”

Marinette started to turn away but quickly halted, then narrowed her eyes.

“That’s not funny, Manon,” she scolded. A single finger pointed in the younger girl’s direction. Manon rolled her eyes.

“Yea, yea,” she said again. With both hands, Manon reached for Marinette’s shoulder and forcefully spun her 180 degrees, then gave her a little shove toward the front door. “Get going, already, or you’re going to be late, and I think we both know it’s not polite to be late for a date~” Her voice lilted at the end, teasing. 

Marinette huffed disgruntledly as she shrugged on a coat. 

“It’s not a date,” she murmured, but Manon completely ignored it.

“And who woulda thought? You used to babysit me, and here I am now, babysitting  _ you _ .”

When Marinette turned to face Manon, she found the younger female standing, relaxed, with one arm raised and resting casually against the wall, a wide, impish grin on her tanned face.

“You’re babysitting  _ for _ me,” the older of the two corrected, to which the younger only shrugged, unconcerned. Marinette continued, mumbling, “and very likely for the last time.”

Manon snorted out a laugh but quickly passed it off as a cough when her erstwhile employer leveled a half-hearted glare in her direction.

“Got it,” she answered with an overly innocent grin. “Emma and I are just going to hang out here and have fun, won’t we, Emma?” She directed the latter half of the sentence at the little girl who had just ambled up at her side. Manon’s free hand dropped lightly onto the tiny girl’s shoulder, and the two beamed at each other.

“Yep!” Emma confirmed excitedly. Manon turned back to Marinette.

“Time to go, mère,” she teased. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Well aware of the passing time, Marinette glanced down at her watch and reached for her purse.

“Have fun on your date~” Manon continued as the older woman passed through the doorway into the hall. 

Marinette started to say, “It’s not a-”

Only for the sound of the door closing behind her to cut her off.

She sighed, exasperated, and looked down at her watch again.

“Oh, who am I kidding,” she muttered to no one in particular, then headed for the elevator.

* * *

Manon and Emma sat comfortably on the couch, munching on popcorn and watching TV after bedtime, two (or perhaps technically three) things Marinette specifically said  _ not _ to do.

Glancing down at the little girl nestled beside her, Manon noted how her eyes seemed to droop drowsily, heavily. Tossing another kernel of popcorn in her mouth, Manon went back to watching the screen and estimated how much longer it would take for her charge to pass out cold. She guessed about five minutes.

She was right. After a few minutes, Emma slumped against Manon’s arm, her tiny little hands curled in relaxation as she found rest against her temporary guardian. Manon had just tucked Emma into her bed and was cleaning up the mess in the living room when she heard a knock at the door.

Somewhat puzzled, she headed for the entry and peered through the peephole. She unlocked the door, frowning slightly, and pulled it inward.

“Adrien, hi!” The greeting came out in a muted whisper-exclamation of surprise. “What’s going on? Where’s Marinette?”

He froze, staring blankly at her.

“Ohh,” Manon continued, seeming to have found the answer to her own question. Her eyes widened. “I was wondering why you didn’t come to pick her up. Thought that was a bit weird.”

Adrien continued to watch her for a few more seconds before collecting himself and gesturing inward.

“Um, can I come in?”

Manon startled, barely visibly flustered, but more so than she let on. He was, after all, Adrien Agreste, and age had not harmed his looks. Not that he was very old to begin with; he was barely beginning his thirties. She stepped aside, clumsily, and waited while he passed through the doorway before softly closing it behind him.

“Emma’s asleep already. Can I, um, get you a glass of water or something? While you wait? I… honestly am not completely certain what time Marinette will be back.”

She walked toward the kitchen, avoiding his eyes- half for her own fangirl sanity and half because she knew she was a terrible liar. Anyone with eyes could see how madly in love Adrien still was with Marinette. And as much as she loved a good gossip, Manon had even less to say than anyone else in the world about what went wrong with them. One day they were together and the next they weren’t. A few months later a little baby came along. Marinette was a bit uptight, but she was also passionate and loyal. If Emma wasn’t enough to make them reconcile… well, Manon secretly had her own theories about what sunk the SS Adrinette, even if she would never say so.

Adrien stayed quiet, the apartment mostly dark. A light from the sleeping television screen glowed lowly in the living room, but other than that, the only source of illumination came from the small bulb above the kitchen stove. Manon padded quietly on the balls of her feet toward where she knew Marinette’s refrigerator, and the bottled sparkling water within, sat. When she opened the appliance’s door, the brightness briefly made her squint, and she noted in the back of her mind that Adrien still hadn’t made a sound. 

She had already retrieved one of the bottles and was ambling back in Adrien’s direction when she heard him make a few stunted noises, like he was trying to say something but wasn’t sure how to without sounding rude.

“Erm, uh, mm, why is it… why… did Marinette call you?”

Manon could just see the outline of his head, the golden blond of his hair illumined in almost a silvery halo by the light of the TV somewhere behind him. She knew her face would be more visible than his, which made the fact that he was probably staring at her in the dark, where she couldn’t see his own face, cast in shadow as it was, even more nerve-wracking. Resisting the urge to swallow at his question and the unspoken question underneath it-- _ where is Marinette, and why didn’t she call me to watch my own daughter? _ \-- Manon reached for the lamp and switched it on. The room was quickly bathed in warm light. Low, but momentarily blinding. She averted her eyes and held out the bottle in offering.

“I… will let her know you’re here. Let me just… send her a text.”

She evaded his gaze the way she evaded his question: awkwardly and obviously. On mouse-like feet, she made her way to her purse and pulled out her phone. With a flick of her thumb, the screen unlocked, and she typed out a message slowly to prolong the time she could keep her back to Adrien. Eventually, she had to send the message and put the phone back. These done, she slowly pivoted on a pointy heel and gave him her best, albeit complete failure of a reassuring smile. Her hands came together nervously in front of her.

“So…” she trailed. Adrien watched her with a measured look. His green eyes could be so intimidating, like a cat deciding whether or not it wanted to eat its prey. Manon smiled wider, though no more relaxed. “Do you want to sit?”

* * *

It was nearly midnight when the familiar clack of a key in the lock sounded just on the other side of the door. Manon, who was beginning to doze against the arm of the couch, startled to a drowsy wakefulness. She stood clumsily, bumping the coffee table with her knee and sending the two empty wine glasses tottering a little. With a frown, she scanned the room, realizing that her companion was no longer in the room. Still, she walked toward the door, catching the sound of the toilet flushing down the hall just as the entry door arced inward.

“Marinette.” Manon stood in the middle of the room, still not fully cognitive-functional. The older of the two continued into the room and set down her keys, her purse. Manon watched her shrug off her coat and hang it in the closet closest to the entry. “Welcome. Back. Home.”

Marinette glanced at her amusedly, only a little bewildered by the girl’s awkward delivery of the greeting. A glance at the coffee table sent a look of understanding on the older woman’s face, followed by a frown of confusion.

Just as she opened her mouth to ask, Adrien’s footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. Both females turned in his direction. When he emerged from the dark into the living room, he halted.

Manon could see the moment the other two individuals in the room locked eyes with each other. An unspoken exchange seemed to pass between them, one that made Manon more than ready to take her leave. Marinette could always pay her later.

Manon gathered the wine glasses as quietly as she could so as not to disturb the strange, growing tension in the room and set them down in the kitchen sink. When she finally had her coat on and purse in hand, she tiptoed to the front door and reached for the knob.

“I’ll, uh, see you later then, Marinette?”

Marinette seemed to startle from a trance and turned to the younger girl.

“Ok. Thanks again.” The words were doubtless sincere, if delivered a bit absent-mindedly. Manon nodded.

“Uh, nice to see you again, Adrien.”

The blond man gave her a crooked, slightly tight smile. Marinette narrowed her eyes thoughtfully.

“Take care, Manon.”

The departing girl gave one last wave before walking out into the main hallway of the building and closing the door quietly behind her. As she did so, she exhaled in relief.   
“Can’t pay me enough to get in the middle of that,” she murmured and headed in the direction of the elevator.

Inside the apartment, Marinette and Adrien had resumed their staring match. The former stood with arms crossed, still in the same spot in the middle of the living room that she had been almost since she arrived home. Adrien shifted his weight restlessly from one foot to the other for nearly a minute before dropping his eyes and moving toward the couch with a sigh. It seemed to break whatever fragile armistice of silence they had mutually agreed on while Manon was still in the room. Marinette was the first to speak.

“What were you doing?” 

Adrien plopped down on the couch, his arms falling listlessly as his sides as though the tension in his body had simply evaporated. Slumped lazily against the back of the couch, he gave Marinette a tired look.

“Where were you?”

She blinked at the way he blatantly ignored her question.

“I was… out. But you didn’t answer my question. What were you doing before I got here?”

Adrien rolled his eyes and curled forward into a sitting position. With his elbows resting on his knees, he rubbed roughly at his face with his hands.

“Isn’t she a little young to be drinking, and with you?”

“She’s nineteen-”

“Is that what does it for you now? She’s basically a kid.”

“Ah, Jesus, Marinette,” he groaned through his fingers. “It was just a little wine. I was just trying to get her to relax. You should have seen how tense she was when I showed up.” Then, with a little bite he added, dropping his hands, “We were waiting for you forever. Geez, I mean, do you even know what time it is?”

A cascade of emotions passed over Marinette’s features in quick succession: first irritation, then confusion, followed by doubt, guilt, and ending in chagrin. Adrien released a sigh of frustration and began to rise to his feet.

“Am I not allowed to do anything anymore, then, because you don’t approve of me leaving Emma with a babysitter?” Marinette argued. “That’s not really your place to decide, is it though? You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do just because you’re Emma’s-”

“You should have called me!” Adrien interrupted her mid-rebuke, unable to hold back anymore. The volume of his sudden interjection surprised them both. For a few seconds, they stood silently, watching each other. Adrien took a breath, calming himself again and relaxing his shoulders, which had begun to regain their former tension. “You should have called me,” he said again, quieter this time. “I’m her dad. No matter what it is, I will always have time for her. I want to see her every opportunity I can, and I know you don’t want me around all the time-”

“I never said that.”

“-but dammit, Marinette, don’t you see that it kills me every time I have to leave you two and go home, alone?” He took a step closer, though Marinette averted her eyes from the intensity of his gaze. “I want you with me. Both of you. Always.”

She cleared her throat, backing away a step.

Why was she always one step out of his reach?

“It’s getting late,” she uttered quietly. “You’ve been drinking, too. You should sleep on the couch. It’s the weekend. You can always go home in the morning.”

Adrien’s shoulders slumped again, this time in defeat. 

“Yea,” he said, tired, and lowered himself down again onto the cushions. “I got it.”

He began unlacing and removing his shoes, then undid the first few buttons on his shirt. Out of habit, he grabbed one of the throw pillows from the opposite end of the couch and tucked it behind his head, lifting up his legs to stretch out lengthwise across the cushions. He was too long to fit, but he was used to it.

Marinette turned and took half a step toward her room, but stopped, hesitating.   
“Adrien-” she began, only to be cut off.

“Goodnight, Marinette,” came his voice from the sofa. There was nothing angry or resentful about it. He sounded resigned. Dejected. Hopeless.

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest, and she forced herself to walk the rest of the way to her bedroom. With the door closed safely behind her, she leaned against it and finally let the tears fall.

* * *

_ “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Emma, happy birthday to you!” _

The green-eyed little girl grinned widely from her spot at the head of the table. All around were the people who cared for her most. Mamie Sabine and Papi Tom beamed at her from the opposite end. At her side stood Adrien and Gorilla, who watched with his usual stern facade, though the expression on his face was noticeably softer than usual. His brow didn’t sit so low over his eyes, and the grim line of his mouth was curved with adoration. When he sang, his deep, baritone voice sounded a lot like the lowest key of an organ. On the other side, Tatie Alya and Tonton Nino smiled matching smiles, little baby Mathys cradled in the former’s arms. Emma’s maman stood beside them, looking equally as excited. A little further down the table were Luka and Jaspard, their matching deep black hair and cerulean eyes bright and merry in the sunlight.

Emma sucked in a big breath and blew at the candles on her giant cake. It was made by Mamie and Papi: the cake was entirely pink, and the frosting was made to look like dozens of petals covered the surface. On top of the second tier sat a giant, golden crown, wreathed in a thin banner that said  _ Happy Birthday Emma. _ As the little flames went out, everyone around the table clapped and cheered. Papi stepped forward immediately to start cutting the cake, almost as a reflex, being a baker for so many years, and Mamie headed in the direction of the kitchen to help gather plates and forks. Adrien ducked in close to his daughter’s side and gave her a warm hug.

“Happy birthday, princess,” he whispered in her ear, then pressed a firm kiss to her cheek.

“Time for presents!” came Papi’s booming voice from somewhere in the adjoining room. Emma scrambled off the couch, grabbed Jaspard’s wrist, and tugged the boy behind her toward the living area. Adrien watched her go, wondering how Tom was planning to keep the kids busy while the cake was cut and served. He knew very well the presents were still stashed in the hallway closet.

His attention was caught then by movement near the kitchen. Marinette emerged into the room with a stack of plates in her arms, followed by her mother. As Adrien watched, Luka approached Marinette and reached for the dishes she carried. There was something about their proximity, the way they smiled at each other as their hands brushed that left a deep, unsettling sensation in his stomach. Luka cradled her elbow delicately with his hand and leaned in close, whispering something in her ear. She colored slightly, clearly embarrassed, but laughed anyway. It was then that she caught Adrien staring.

It was an awkward meeting of gazes, but he couldn’t look away. She averted her eyes. Luka successfully retrieved the plates and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. She blushed again and rushed back in the direction of the kitchen.

Adrien’s heart sunk.

* * *

Marinette gave her parents a last parting kiss, thanked them for helping with the clean up, and closed the apartment door behind them. It wasn’t exactly chaotic as far as children’s birthdays go, but the planning, setting up, hosting, and cleaning-up of even a simple party comes with its own kind of exhaustion.

It may have helped that Marinette had a little bit of wine, too.

“Where should I put this?”

Adrien’s question surprised her. She almost forgot he was even still there, but of course, he refused to leave until the entire place was set back in order. When she turned to look his way, he was holding the crown from Emma’s cake, freshly cleaned and ready for play. Marinette smiled looking at it.

“I’ll take it. She’ll probably want it in her room. That or she won’t take it off for at least a week. She’s already telling me that I have to call her Princess Emma from now on.”

Adrien proffered the crown and grinned. It shot like an arrow straight to Marinette’s heart. For years she had lived for that smile. Now it only stung her with the bittersweetness of memories.

“I still can’t believe she fell asleep right after it was over,” he said as though he had no idea what it did to her when he smiled like that. In the back of her mind, she reasoned that he probably didn’t. She smiled, too, and pushed those thoughts down.

“She tired herself out playing with Papa and Jaspard, I guess.”

An awkward silence fell between them. Marinette seemed to come to herself and grabbed the crown from Adrien’s still waiting hand.

“Thanks. For everything.”

The words sounded stilted, even to herself. Adrien visibly drew back.

“Of course.”

She stood there for a few more seconds before clearing her throat and crossing the room. The crown didn’t make a sound as she set it on the surface of her computer desk. Marinette sighed, tired. Tired from keeping a smile on her face for the last few hours, easier at some moments than others. Tired from navigating the landmines of a co-parenting relationship with an ex-lover while simultaneously trying to figure out a relationship with someone new. Someone she liked, but felt incapable of truly trusting with her heart. It wasn’t his fault, though. She wasn’t sure she could entrust it to anybody.

All of these things- she wanted to tell Adrien. Not that long ago, he was the person she went to with everything. No. That wasn’t right. He understood it all before she even said a word.

Marinette missed the easiness of that, the naturalness. She missed her best friend.

She sighed again and turned around. Adrien, of course, was still there, silently waiting.

He was always standing close by, waiting.

“In the mood for some wine?”

* * *

“What?” Marinette stared at Adrien, shocked. He kept his eyes focused on the little bit of wine left in the bottom of his glass. “Really?”

He nodded, pursing his lips.

“Yep. It’s been… about five years now. It was a bit difficult at first, but I knew there was no other way. I basically reached rock bottom about that time. You already know all the issues I have, my lady, is this really a surprise? Daddy issues, mommy issues, god complex-- I’m every psychiatrist’s wet dream.”

The way he looked at her and laughed as he said that dredged up a dozen conflicting emotions that she didn’t even want to try to identify. She could see him masking his vulnerability with humor. The deflection to hide his discomfort. Joking about his struggles had always been Adrien’s way of coping. She was glad he had been seeing someone but still felt concerned.

“Adrien.”

“I’m ok. It’s really helped me a lot, even if sometimes it’s like pulling teeth. It’s nice, you know? Having someone I can tell anything to who won’t j-”

The words were already partway out of his mouth. It didn’t matter that he didn’t finish the sentence. Marinette finished it in her mind.

Suddenly, whereas the wine had given her a bit of courage, made her feel a little more relaxed, suddenly, she couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Marinette.”

“Maybe that’s enough wine for now, yea? I’m sure Emma will be up soon-”

She stood and reached for the nearly empty glasses.

“Marinette, please. Look at me.”

The sober part of her brain said not to do it. The part that was just a little inebriated by the few glasses of wine she’d drunk over the last hour or two was a little slow to process that instinct.

She looked.

“I never meant that you judge me. Not for anything. You never have. I’ve never felt that way. And if anybody had the right to judge me, it would be you. I  _ wish _ you would judge me. You just….” He trailed. Her mind screamed at her to look away, to run to the kitchen- anything but let him finish the half-formed thought coming out of his lips. He was too quick for her again. “You just… look at me with those eyes, and when I see them, they’re so indifferent to me.”

Adrien reached for the hand of hers that was still empty and looked up at her from his position on the sofa. His fingers felt a little clammy.

“You told me once that you hated me.” Marinette flinched. “Even that was easier. Now, when I see you, all I can see is…” He trailed again, his voice becoming thick. Hints of moisture began to appear in the corners of his eyes. “All I can see is the way you feel nothing for me. Nothing at all. To the point where nothing I do, nothing I’ve done, seems to get to you anymore. Marinette.”

His voice broke on her name. He bowed his head against the hand he held in his grip. The smooth plane of his forehead touched the back of her hand. It felt warm against her cool skin.

It could have been the wine. It could have been the way he bared himself before her in the middle of her small living room. She reached out and set down the glass in her hand, then lifted her hand and tucked her fingers into the thick, golden tresses that cascaded messily over his head.

“Adrien.”

He leaned back and looked at her. The fabric of his knees was brushing her legs. He was so close, he could practically rest his face against her stomach. She hadn’t seen him from that perspective in so long, she forgot what it looked like. Kneeling before her, desperation in his eyes.

There was no dramatic downpour outside or swell of music around them. Emma was napping obliviously in the other room, and the background noises of the TV were the only other thing to break the heavy silence that loomed between them. A thick streak of sunlight pierced through the space, aided by a gap in the curtains. Dust floated indifferently in the bright beam.

Marinette couldn’t stem the tears that streamed down her cheeks, the tightness of her clenched fists. Her lower lip quivered, and she sniffed. There was no stopping it this time. Six long years of holding back the flood, and the dam finally broke.

“I just-” she tried, but her voice sounded weak, fractured. She inhaled a shuddering breath and tried again. “I just don’t know if I can ever love you the way I did again.” The last word cracked on delivery, and she crumpled forward in a quietly sobbing mess, her face cradled by two trembling hands, shoulders shaking with tears and suppressed emotion.

Adrien rose up and pulled her into his arms in a single fluid movement. She didn’t even bother to fight it. She just let the tears flow.

“I know,” he said. The levelness to his voice belied the turmoil within him. He tucked his chin over one of her shoulders and allowed his eyelids to drift closed. Inhaling her scent, he caught hints of vanilla and passionfruit. “I don’t need you to love me like you did before. You’re a different person now, and so am I. Even the way I love you now is different from back then. It’s deeper. It’s less about me. It’s about wanting you, but more than that, wanting you to be happy. I love you now as someone who knows what it’s like to lose you. As somebody who has hurt you deeply and never wants to repeat that mistake again. I love you guiltily, knowing I don’t deserve to have your love or even to love you, but no matter what I do, I just can’t stop.”

Marinette’s crying slowed and quieted as he spoke. Her fingers clutched desperately as the folds of his overshirt, but still she felt him begin to pull away. When they could see each other’s faces again, Marinette’s eyes were bright red and puffy, her nose rose-tinged and runny. Thick tracks of countless tears stained her cheeks. She was surprised to see traces of bloodshot veins in the whites of Adrien’s eyes, a fullness to them that spoke of unreleased anguish. Without a thought, she reached up and framed his face in her hands.

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” he whispered. “I have no right to ask you this, but can you ever forgive me for what I’ve done to you? Can you try to love me again, whatever that means and however long it takes? I’ll spend the rest of my life waiting for you, even if you tell me there isn’t a sliver of hope, even if it means I have to grow old having never gained you back to my side. I never want to love anyone else; I don’t even think I’m capable of it. You’re the only one for me.” 

His voice started to sound breathless, unstable, and his chest undulated erratically with the effort of stemming the tide of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. Adrien’s features contorted with the effort until he could fight it no more, and his eyes closed tightly, his face a grimace, his self-control broken. Sobs racked his body. He slumped forward until his forehead rested against Marinette’s neck and shoulder. She held him, her eyes wide with surprise, while he cried. A slender hand came up subconsciously to rub soothing circles on his back.

Adrien fisted the sides of her shirt with his hands, but she paid them no mind. Her eyes drifted shut as they stood there, holding desperately onto each other. For long moments, they stayed that way until the violence of his convulsions dissipated into whimpers and shudders. Then, he pulled away again, though he didn’t meet her eyes. The quiet of the room felt loud.

Deep in the back of her mind, Marinette understood that the love she had for Adrien never went away. It shifted and changed, and sometimes it was masked by feelings of forced hatred, of emotions she dredged up from the bottom of her mangled heart to form a protective barrier against the hurt and the loneliness.

But it was always there, hiding so far under the surface she almost convinced herself it no longer existed.

It didn’t look the same anymore. It was an unrecognizable fragment of what it once was, but it was there. She knew then it always would be. If given some time and room to grow, it could blossom into something strong and healthy, even beautiful.

“Adrien, I-” she halted there, not sure how to begin. “I don’t feel like… I can trust you yet- right now.” He started nodding along without stopping as she spoke. “It could take a long time- years- before- before I feel… secure in you again, if ever.”

He was still nodding in understanding, but the dramatic widening of his eyes betrayed his surprise.

“Yes. Yes. Anything, Marinette. I’ll wait for however long it takes. I’ve-” he broke off, clearly fighting another deluge of tears. His eyes glowed, green and white and red. “I’ve always been waiting for you, my lady. I’ll always be.”

It was like he couldn’t hold back anymore. He crushed her against him, afraid of what it would mean if he ever let her out of his arms again.

She returned the hug, albeit with much more reserve. It was clear that embracing her in this way was at least a little uncomfortable for her. With not a little effort, he pulled back again and put some distance between them.

There was something he needed to ask, anyway. Something that had been weighing on his mind for months, really, but had gotten much heavier over the course of the day.

“Can I ask though…” He hesitated. The answer: the prospect of knowing was incredibly frightening. “Are you… you and Luka…” The rest of the words wouldn’t come. His implication was understood anyway.

Marinette averted her eyes.

“I don’t know what we are,” she said at last. “We’ve… had a few conversations about it. He knows I’m not in a position to make any promises. I haven’t been very… emotionally available to him. I’ve probably been unfair. He’s a good person. He really deserves better.”

Adrien fisted his hands, unsure whether he did or didn’t want to hear what she had to say about this other man, about someone he knew full well deserved her better than he ever could again.

Still, he wanted to be a little selfish.

“Are you… going to keep seeing him?”

He couldn’t meet her eyes, but he felt her gaze on him.

“No, I… I already decided before the party today that I just wasn’t ready for… anything more. I can’t take risks like that, not when it could affect Emma. If I were serious about anyone, ever, they’d be in her life. I don’t want to play with her feelings. I don’t want her to go through the experience of becoming attached to someone in any way just to have them leave her in the end.”

Adrien closed his eyes tightly. He knew she didn’t intend them for him, but the words stung him nonetheless.

He would never not regret what he had done to their relationship.

A small part of him was elated that Marinette still had yet to be with anyone other than him. But the other part of him was aware that he couldn’t say the same about himself. It was like a layer of scum on his body that he could never wash away.

He felt her cool hands on his cheeks. Softly, she lifted his head. He gradually opened his eyes and faced her.

It was slow, so slow it felt surreal. Marinette rose up on her toes. Her blue, blue eyes rose higher and higher until they were close to being level with his own. She never looked away from him. She kept her gaze fixed on him, steady, clear, and leaned forward to press her lips against his.

It was brief, a second or two at most. The feel of her kiss after so long was foreign yet familiar. The fullness of her lips. The warmth of them, slightly chapped from crying and sweet from the wine. She didn’t back down right away either; she just kept looking into his wide, surprised eyes as though trying to figure something out. At last, she made a quiet humming sound and allowed the soles of her feet to return to the floor.

“I make no promises.”

Adrien watched her, still silent with shock.

“I don’t know what will become of us. I can’t say what the days ahead hold. But no matter what, we will  _ always _ be family. You. And me. And Emma. And because of that, everything is going to be ok.”

Adrien searched her face. There was no sign of the avoidance he had been dreading for what felt like years. No sign of the tense armistice they had entered into the day he walked back through the door. In its place was her clarity, her stubbornness of will, her confidence. It was as though the girl from all those years ago, the one that first made him fall in love with her to begin with, was looking out at him from somewhere within.

“How can you be so sure?”

He would never give up on them again, he knew. But he couldn’t help wondering how she could change her own perspective so quickly.

Marinette’s mouth quirked, just slightly, and she released an amused breath.

“Because we’ve come this far.” She stated it like it was such an obvious truth. “And because I still love you. I never stopped.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Originally, I planned on more in-depth exploration of Marinette's dating-relationship with Luka. The reader would have seen how she just never really felt comfortable being close with him in that way. Those scenes ended up on the back burner and then left out entirely. It was also getting really long, so I ended up deciding to cut it short.
> 
> Likewise, when I first started drafting the story, Lukanette was endgame, and Adrien was going to find someone else and move on, but the story just didn't work out that way. Maybe in another universe? Hmm, now I'm thinking about writing alternate endings...
> 
> Anyway, I hope that you more or less enjoyed that story. Thanks again for clicking, and let me know what you think, if you liked it (or not) in kudos/comments/what have you!
> 
> <3 Muse


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